


Catchy

by yeaka



Series: Yutopian Zoo [25]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Animal Ears, Animal Traits, Ficlet, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 10:52:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Phichit visits and finds Chris overdue.





	Catchy

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is set in the same partial-animal AU as some of my other ficlets, but it’s stand-alone and you don’t need to read them for this. (Long story short, human!Victor bought serow!Yuuri from the zoo and they’re babysitting cat!Chris, who handler!Phichit is coming to babysit as Yuuri’s in rut.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri on Ice or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s difficult to park the car, even back amidst the trees where the branches have kept some of the snow at bay, but it’s harder still to make it to the front door of the cabin. Phichit can see that Victor must’ve shuffled it once, but fresh snow has fallen all over it, and he can guess why Victor hasn’t gotten around to fixing it up again. Phichit picks his way over anyway, wading through the snow like a child trapped inside a ball pit.

He also isn’t particularly surprised that his first knock isn’t answered. It sucks, because it’s already late in the afternoon and freezing cold, but he still understands what’s going on. He knocks again, louder, and then a third time. On the fourth, he can hear scratching on the other side, and he curiously waits until the door wrenches open.

A very horny-looking cat greets him with hazy eyes, then breaks into a wide, warm grin. 

Phichit chirps, “Hey, Christophe,” and shuffles in to escape the chill. Christophe steps away from the door, and Phichit has to shut it, fumbling for the lock. Then he’s clambering out of his heavy coat and boots, while Christophe kneels down on the floor and stares up at him, wearing only black briefs and a woolen sweater. He should be frozen solid, even though the cabin’s far better than outside, but there’s a healthy flush to his skin, and his frazzled tail is flicking curiously. Phichit tries to ignore Christophe’s burning gaze as he sheds the last of his layers, finally making it out to his socks and jacket. 

Before Phichit can ask after the owner of the house, Christophe asks, voice husky, “Did you come to rescue me?” Phichit instantly snaps to attention—when hybrids at the zoo need _rescuing_ , it’s usually because a poacher almost cut them open. He’s devoted to his handler job and does everything he can to care for those that come to him, and he has an eye for hybrids that have been mistreated. Christophe looks perfectly healthy, except, of course, that he’s acting like an animal in heat. When Phichit doesn’t answer fast enough, Christophe shuffles closer, close enough that his face hovers just over Phichit’s crotch, and he looks up to croon, “I’ve been alone for _days_.”

“Alone?” Phichit repeats, frowning. He already knew Christophe would face some neglect—the director’s cat is used to ample attention, and the serow rut season should’ve started already, occupying Victor. So Phichit came to help. But he still thought that Victor would take _some_ care of Christophe. 

Christophe purses his lips and corrects, “Well, not _all_ alone—but Victor and Yuuri are all entangled in the loft. They’ve been mating for _forever._ I understand the want, of course, but I can hear them and _smell_ them and... ohhh...” He trails off in a weak little moan that sends a shiver down Phichit’s spine. He’s never had a kink for hybrids, but of course, Christophe brings that out in most people.

It takes a good amount of strength to concentrate. Phichit gently pushes Christophe away and promises, “I’ll come play with you soon. I just want to check on Yuuri first...”

“But Yuuri has company,” Christophe groans, his Swiss accent extra thick in his guttural plea. His want is palpable. 

But he’s the _director’s cat_ , and Phichit has a job and dignity to maintain. So he carefully steps around Christophe and wanders deeper into the house. The little hallway opens up into a kitchen and dining room, and turning the corner shows the general living space. Even if there were other paths to take, Phichit wouldn’t get lost. He can smell the familiar stench of a serow in rut, and it makes him pinch his nose. It makes him sympathize more with Christophe, who hangs back, sitting forlornly on the floor with his tail curled around his bare legs. Phichit offers him a weak smile.

The loft is visible from where Phichit is, though not anything in it, so he’s sure he’d hear if Victor and Yuuri were currently making love. As quiet as Yuuri is during the rest of the year, Phichit knows just how loud Yuuri’s rut can make him. Yuuri was part of the serow exhibit at the zoo for years, and Phichit was his handler, always giving him extra care, particularly fond of his shy sweetness. It wasn’t easy to sell Yuuri to a private investor, but Yuuri _wanted_ to go with Victor, so Phichit had to let it happen. But Yuuri’s happiness over the situation hasn’t at all quenched Phichit’s worry that Victor, a regular person, probably doesn’t know the first thing about handling sentient animals. 

A noise flitters down from above the stairs that line the wall: a giddy purring sound that Phichit knows came from Yuuri’s throat. Then Victor’s voice murmurs something back, something in soothing Russian. Phichit heads for the steps. He calls first, “Victor, Yuuri! I’m coming up!”

No one tells him not to, so Phichit goes. As soon as he’s set foot in the loft, Yuuri’s shooting up, perched in the middle of a large bed with a white sheet across his lap. A hard look is on his face, triggered by an unknown creature entering his territory, but it softens when he sees it’s only Phichit. Phichit smiles warmly, and Victor, stretched out at Yuuri’s side, gives a tired wave. They’re both naked as far as Phichit can tell, but safely under the covers. Having bathed Yuuri at the zoo, Phichit’s seen him naked plenty of times.

Victor’s just as beautiful, but Phichit doesn’t spare a thought to that. He wanders closer, while Victor mutters, “Oops—I didn’t hear the door.”

“Christophe let me in,” Phichit provides. 

Yuuri settles back down as Phichit nears the side of the mattress and hikes up onto it, moving to sit at the very edge. Yuuri even turns to nuzzle into his knee, crooning happily. Despite the awkward nakedness and thick smell, Phichit finds himself smiling. He missed Yuuri. He runs his hands down through Yuuri’s dark hair, tenderly petting Yuuri, and checking that there’s no jealousy in Victor’s fond expression. Victor only reaches out to stroke Yuuri’s back. He chuckles, “I thought you told me not to come around serows in rut—they mount everything in sight.”

“I gambled that he’d be mounted out,” Phichit answers, and he was right. Yuuri looks like he’s been fucked silly, too spent and boneless to try tackling Phichit down like he used to. It makes Phichit silently impressed with Victor’s stamina and strength. He knows it probably won’t last long—sooner rather than later, Yuuri will want to go again. But Phichit wants to enjoy a moment with him first. Phichit asks, “How are you, Yuuri?”

“ _Good_ ,” Yuuri hums, whilst twisting his body to try and lean into both Phichit and Victor’s touch. When he glances over his shoulder, his eyes fix on Victor’s and light up with _lust_. His voice darkens with sudden confidence, and he purrs, “Vitya’s so pretty... and he lets me mount him all the time... I’m going to breed him and make him _mine_...” Victor makes no protest, even when Yuuri leans back over to him, capturing his mouth. Victor tries to keep it chaste, obviously for Phichit’s benefit, but Yuuri’s all tongue, and that’s about what Phichit expected. He withdraws his hand, already wiping it off on his jeans. Yuuri starts humping Victor’s body beneath the blankets and whimpers, “ _Victor_...”

Victor hushes him with a few loving kisses and a knowingly look at Phichit. Phichit nods and takes his leave—he’s already intruded enough. He wishes he could have more time with Yuuri, a proper conversation even, but he knows that won’t be possible for at least another month. It sucks he had to fly all the way over for nothing more than few dazed seconds, but he has a cat to save. At least Yuuri looked healthy enough, and there were leaves and a glass of water by the bed. He didn’t look _too_ messy, all things considered—Victor must be regularly bathing him. Victor must be taking good care of him. Phichit’s glad.

He doesn’t breathe properly until he’s down the stairs and around the corner, and even then, he can feel Yuuri’s scent clinging to his clothes. He doesn’t have to look far for Christophe—there’s only one door open, so Phichit beelines for it.

He steps into another bedroom and halts in his tracks, because Christophe isn’t at all how Phichit left him. Christophe is up atop the bed, sprawled out on all fours, facing away from the door with his ass high in the air and his cheek against the pillows. He isn’t wearing a stitch of clothing anymore, not even the collar he often wore to the zoo. His long tail’s perked up, not covering a thing. It actually seems to highlight the smooth globes below it, which flex as Christophe spreads his legs. His cock swings between them, long and hard and dripping at the end, his balls taut against his body. When he reaches back to part his cheeks, Phichit gets a good view of his rosy entrance, stretched open and slick with lube. The translucent remnants drizzle lightly down his balls and thighs, making his puckered hole shine.

Phichit gulps. He’s had hybrids present to him before, but those were bucks in rut or big cats in heat, not domesticated animals with no such cycle. Christophe doesn’t reek of animal pheromones, just raw, human _sex_ , and his body looks _damn good_.

He wriggles his rear teasingly, purring, “Please, take care of me, Phichit. I really _need you_...”

Phichit’s mouth is dry. He tries to move his tongue, but it takes a bit of effort to manage, “Christophe...”

“Chris,” Christophe corrects, his fingers now teasing the wet rim of his hole. Phichit can’t stop looking at it. He does find Christophe ridiculously attractive, no less so for the pointed white ears atop his head and the soft tail pointing straight up in the air. Phichit never likes to deny a hybrid in his care. But Christophe is his boss’ pet...

And that doesn’t make him any less a sentient man capable of making his own decisions. Maybe they’re open. They probably are. The director works a lot, and Christophe needs attention. Phichit knows it from every time he’s been brought to the zoo, only to rub up against everyone in sight and command all of Phichit’s attention. Phichit’s starting to think he should’ve sent up a different handler. But then, he can’t think of any that wouldn’t fuck Christophe anyway.

Christophe groans, “ _Pleeease_...” and makes an absolutely inhuman noise that goes straight to Phichit’s cock. He’s already hard. He doesn’t know if it’s from seeing Victor and Yuuri in post-coital bliss or from Christophe’s winking hole alone. Either way, he fidgets in the doorway, not quite able to run. 

He takes a slow step back, and Christophe’s brow actually furrows, like Phichit’s retreat would wound him. Maybe it would. Christophe looks very much like a neglected lover that needs a good dicking just as much as Yuuri.

Phichit can’t have Yuuri and probably wouldn’t want to. But he can have Christophe, and it’s been way too long since he actually got laid, and Christophe begs with his eyes until Phichit _breaks_. He steps into the room, shutting the door behind him, and tries to stay calm as Christophe lights up with excitement. He’s across the room in a heartbeat.

He’s up on the mattress, and Christophe’s whining happily. Phichit fumbles with his fly, even though he knows that’s all out of order—they should talk, _kiss_ , do anything even remotely resembling foreplay—but then his cock’s out and he’s pressing his tip against Christophe’s gorgeous hole. Christophe cries out already, tail curling back. The lube makes it too easy; Phichit shoves right inside.

Immediately, Christophe’s _screaming_. Phichit already knew cats do that, but it still makes him tense. There’s no way Victor and Yuuri can’t hear it. Phichit clamps a hand over his own mouth, embarrassed with himself but still _turned on_. He presses one hand against the small of Christophe’s back and moves his hips. He can tell that Christophe’s already fingered open, but still so _tight_ , so hot, deliciously wet around him. Christophe clenches and rocks onto him, shuddering on and off until Phichit has the wherewithal to move.

Even through his fog of lust, Phichit knows he _shouldn’t be doing this_. He tries to make it fast—he reaches right below Christophe’s stomach, fingers wrapping deftly around Christophe’s cock. It’s as damp as his hole and easy to pump, and every stroke earns a very vocal response. Christophe wails and moans as Phichit sets up a quick rhythm, pounding in and out. He fills Christophe up for all he’s worth and hurriedly withdraws, only to slam inside again. It occurs to him too late that he didn’t even get a condom. He knows he’s clean. Christophe probably is. But it’s stupid and makes his cheeks even hotter with shame. But Christophe’s _so hot_ and Phichit keeps right on fucking him. 

Christophe’s face is already pressed to the pillow, but there are a few times where Phichit thinks Christophe will collapse completely beneath him, giving way to the force of all his thrusts. Christophe stays up, ass always shoving eagerly back onto Phichit’s cock. Phichit slams in and pumps Christophe and barrels towards his own end, way too soon but not soon enough. A small voice in his ear buzzes to pull out, to come outside of Christophe’s amazing ass, But Phichit’s body isn’t listening to his brain. He flies over the edge and moans as he spills into Christophe, hips still pounding away.

He’s barely finished coating Christophe’s channel when Christophe tenses around him, shrieking in ecstasy and making a sticky mess of Phichit’s fingers. Phichit keeps pumping. Then he’s spent, and Christophe’s panting, and it’s all Phichit can do to pull out and plop onto the bed.

He’s an idiot. He feels good, but he’s still an idiot. He can’t believe he _fucked the director’s cat._ He already knows this’ll be the rare occasion where the day isn’t documented with a selfie. Even though Christophe looks picture perfect. He tries to take comfort in how _happy_ Christophe looks, finally satiated. Christophe rolls over to snuggle right into him, smearing cum across Phichit’s jeans. That’s the least of his concerns.

Purring contentedly, Christophe sighs, “You will take me home with you, won’t you?”

And Phichit nods, doomed.


End file.
